


The Pavement Hurt My Feelings

by ultrarosamonster



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Dream Team SMP Lore (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), L'Manberg | L'Manburg on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Prison, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Your city gave me asthma, and then Tommy going to the afterlife and meeting Wilbur again, basically Dream killing Tommy and regretting everything, no beta we die like george in manhunt, not ship, the station in the album is the afterlife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29805321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultrarosamonster/pseuds/ultrarosamonster
Summary: Tommy's last day stuck in the cell with Dream. Major Character Death but Tommy wakes up in the afterlife and meets Wilbur in a train station, everything feels a little Off in the station but he's too tired, and honestly relieved to be able to rest finally.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	1. There's a reason

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: Canon typical violence/violence, possible derealization/depersonalization, bloody hands/knuckles

Dream sighed, "Just, shut up. You're being let out soon-"

He was cut off by Tommy continuing to ramble about god knows what. Poking fun at Dream, mocking him, trying to press his buttons. 

"You probably couldn't though, I doubt you even have the book."

That was it. That was the snapping point.

He grabbed the kid by his shoulders and slammed him against the wall, vaguely hearing a slight crack, maybe his shoulder or just the sound of the back of his head hitting the obsidian.

"Woah- woah Dream hey-" He nervously smiled and tried to move to the side, but rough hands tightened on his shoulders definitely bruising. 

"Dude, dude calm down, I was just-"

He blacked out for a second, opening his eyes, he was on the ground. Tommy put his hands up, crossing his arms over his face half a second before Dream's fist made contact again.

Incoherent crying filled the room as Tommy felt his voice go hoarse screaming for Sam, for Tubbo, for Phil, for Techno, Wilbur, Ranboo, anyone. 

"I'm low, I'm low Dream please I'm-"

His arms were pulled away from his face and he looked into the emotionless smile staring down at him. He could see green eyes beyond the mask, scars that came in and out of sight when he moved his head. 

One more hit, perfectly on his already bleeding and probably broken nose.

And silence.

No more begging for Sam, no more 'I didn't mean it', no more screaming 'sorry's. No mocking, no sarcastic bites, no bickering. 

No more Tommy.

Dream lowered his hands and let go of the now limp wrists. Tommy wasn't moving. 

"No. No no no no, no that's wrong."

Dream had counted, Tommy should've still had a couple hearts left. Was he, not lying when he said he was already low?

"Oh god, oh god, oh no." 

He backed up faster than he'd ever moved before until he was against the far wall, staring at the body on the floor near the left wall.

"Sam? Warden. Sam? Sam please." 

He called out, unconsciously lowering his voice just enough that it'd get lost in the lava. He slide down the wall, sitting with his knees up and looked at his hands, his knuckles were bruising already, with blood dripping off his fingers.

The hands before him started shaking, they weren't his. He couldn't have done this. He never meant to.. to make him gone. Tommy was just a kid, they fought but they always backed off before it got bad. Tommy always got up, always came back, always got the last word. He couldn't be, dead. 

He couldn't look at the body anymore, he turned away to the pool of water and gently lowered his still shaky hands. Watching as the blood curled in the water for a moment before rubbing his knuckles until the fresh blood was gone, leaving behind bruises and scabs.

The water tinted red, and he gagged when he noticed. 

"Sam? Sam please, Sam, anyone? Please," he called out louder than before, and stood up, starting to pace back and forth. He occasionally glanced at the body, feeling something in his gut, guilt? Remorse? Anger? Fear? 

What would happen? Would Sam kill him? Would Sam take the body? Would Sam tell everyone what happened? Does Sam even know exactly what happened?

It wasn't hard to figure out what happened, with Dream's hands as fucked up as they were and Tommy obviously being..

He snapped back from his thoughts, overwhelmed with how silent the cell was. It felt even quieter than it was before Tommy had come. He had gotten so used to the constant noise, stream of consciousness talking that came from the kid.

The kid.

The kid who he killed.

The literal, kid. The kid who just wanted his music discs, who just wanted to sit on a bench with his best friend. The kid who made a couple too many jokes at Dream's expense. The kid who just wanted a special place for his friends.

And Dream realized he'd robbed him of all of that, and for what?


	2. london puts barriers on the rails

Everything went dark.

Tommy couldn't tell how much time had passed when he opened his eyes.

His head felt foggy, in a dull sense. Like when you wake up unexpectedly after a long nap that you weren't supposed to take, and you can't tell if the sun is rising or setting. He had a slight headache, and his throat hurt, but not nearly as much as he had moments prior.

Moments prior? What had happened moments prior?

He blinked hard, trying to remember why his nose hurt, and got distracted realizing he also didn't remember where he was.

He shook his head, as if trying to stop the thoughts from getting overwhelming and decided he should figure out where he was before he worked on why everything hurt.

It wasn't silent, the was a, rumbling? repeated sound coming from all around him. He looked around actually processing his surroundings as he opened his eyes again.

It was a train. He was on an underground train, or subway, or metro whatever it was called. He was alone in the car and heard someone announcing the next stop over the speaker.

"-and National Rail Services. This train terminated at Stanmore."

"Huh." He sat up a bit and looked out the window behind him, graffiti whizzed past.

The reflection looking back at him was.. weird. It flashed for a moment. It was still Tommy, but his nose looked wrong, broken. And his hair was matted with wet blood, bags under his eyes and a split, puffy, lip. 

Concerned, he brought a hand up to his hair, his dry, clean hair. Then he gingerly touched his nose, it wasn't broken, nor bloody, but felt sore as if sometime, long ago, it had been.

The reflection changed back, back to normal. His shirt looked recently washed, bright red like the day he bought it, with no grime stains on the white part. "Huh.." he whispered again.

He stood up, stretching a bit and walked carefully around the train car. He had surprisingly good balance, almost like the car altered itself to make sure he didn't wobble or fall.

The train slowed, and slowed, and eventually came to a stop. 

He looked quizzically at the doors when they opened. 

Slowly he walked to them, poking his head out and seeing the empty station. No, not empty, it had some shadows dancing along the walls, like there was a crowd of invisible people shuffling along, only their shadows seen.

"Tommy?"

Tommy whipped his head towards the noise. A bench was against to wall about 20 feet in front and to the left of him. 

Speechless, he stepped out of the car. The doors closed the second he was clear of them and the train started up again.

He stared in disbelief, the young man sitting on the bench was terribly familiar. Messy, as always, curly brown hair, an acoustic guitar propped against his knee, and he was wearing-

What was he wearing? It seemed like it was shifting, occasionally a suit, similar to old Schlatt's, a faded yellow sweater, back to the old L'manberg uniform.

"Wilbur?"

A smile broke over Wilbur's face, "Tommy!" He got up, knocking over his guitar which appeared over his shoulder against his back just before it hit the ground, and ran up to Tommy with his arms out. 

"Wil-" He was cut off by a great hug from his old friend.

Wilbur pulled back, and Tommy immediately realized that he should be much more distressed by the current situation, even if it seemed like a dream. 

"Wil', where are we? This is a dream innit?"

Wilbur's smile faded and he took a stuff back. "You don't.. oh, you've only just gotten here."

"I don't, I don't what? What is 'here'" Tommy felt a little defensive, but still just confused and upset with the unknowing. 

"Well.. it's better not to tell you. Just know that you're.. well you're like me. And pretty soon you'll start to remember what happened that- that made you like this." Wilbur gave a reassuring smile but was obviously done with the topic.

"Would you like to hear a song? I'd love to play something for you. Like old times." Wilbur gestured to the bench that was now right next to them. Tommy didn't remember walking to the bench, but he didn't remember much currently.

He nodded and sat down on the bench. Wilbur sat on the ground cross-legged in front of him and started strumming a simple tune.

Tommy looked around, this place, wherever he was, felt. It felt nice. 

It didn't feel like home, but it wasn't bad, it just was. He watched the smoke curl from the tracks where the train had been seconds, or hours, ago. 

He looked down at Wilbur who was nodding along with his own beat.

"Wilby, Am I dead?"

The music stopped. Wilbur looked up to his friend the way one might look at a puppy found on the side of a road in the rain. He bit his lip and repositioned his fingers to start playing again, whispering a silent 'sorry.'

Tommy sat back, and nodded. He looked to the ceiling of the station and felt his eyes get wet. 

"Okay."

He swallowed hard, briefly thinking of Tubbo, then Sam, then everyone else at once, then no one. He felt numb, and tired, so, so tired.

He closed his eyes, listening to the chords and soft humming, and let the tears go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was fun /sarcasm  
> Drink some water, watch some favorite Vods/Videos, and have a good day /gen <33  
> Tumblr: ultrarosacan  
> Requests taken and appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, comments are extremely appreciated and my tumblr is ultrarosacan <3


End file.
